Societal pressure

A man sitting across me on the track-defective train I’m commuting on dropped a tiny, squished up ball of paper at his feet. He hesitated to pick it up, and, from the corner of my eye, I witnessed him surveying the carriage quickly and subtly. In his moment of fickleness, I affixed my gaze upon his feet and it forced a moral imperative on him. He bent down to pick up his trash and discarded the rest of his embarrassment by seamlessly going on to nudge his friend, waste paper still in hand.